Before You're Gone
by Colby'sGirl19
Summary: 'Before You're Gone' follows Don five years after the series. Desperate to succeed the current AD, Don makes some rash and hasty decisions with dire consequences - prequel to 'After You're Gone'.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Nervous?" Charlie smiled at his frowning brother as he entered the small pavilion.

"Me nervous? Never!" Don mocked sarcastically as he rubbed his sweating palms down his tight fitting suit bottoms, which were snug in all of the wrong places. "Ok maybe a little," He admitted reluctantly as he considered his notes.

"Are you still learning that?" Charlie asked amazed, Don was usually better at memorising things at such short notice.

"I have the gist," Don sighed frustrated as he combed his messy hair with distracted fingers.

"What? That drugs are bad?" Charlie smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Basically!" Don practically shouted as he threw the speech angrily across the room. "I keep reading it and reading it and it just sounds so…so…"

"Pretentious?" Charlie guessed after he collected the speech from the ground and began to scan the first page.

"Yes!" Don shouted as he sat down and buried his face in his hands, moaning "Why me!" a few times.

"Look Don, you don't need this," Charlie slapped the page with his free hand, "Just treat it like you're briefing your team, except avoid any classified information. If they ask any thing you can't disclose just say that you can't discuss specifics in an open and on-going investigation."

"I know all that," Don gave his brother a withering look. Charlie had dressed up for the occasion and was wearing a brown suit not unlike his own tan one. "What brings you here anyway?" Don asked sulking as he snatched the speech back out of Charlie's grasp.

"The AD called me," Charlie shrugged, "Told me that it would help your cause if I'm seen to be supporting "my brother's" latest insane and dubious adventures."

"I didn't realise that he had you on speed dial," Don pouted as he looked the speech over one last time, it really was bad.

"Well I didn't realise that my absence today could stop you from getting the AD's position, but there you go," Charlie shrugged again, oblivious to Don's tantrum.

"I know," Don sighed deeply, finally conceding the point. "I didn't realise that the whole thing would become this big. I feel like I'm bidding to become president! Nick's just such a good candidate for the role!" Getting up, Don began to pace the small room.

"Hence the big production?" Charlie asked baffled. "You want to go on TV and piss off the local drug cartels because you think that'll get you the position?"

"No, I'm going on TV to let them know that I'm gunning for them. They think their smart, but I'm smarter," Don told Charlie arrogantly. "Nick dealt with the local smuggling rings; well I'm going to bring down the largest and most powerful cartel." Sticking out his strong jaw, Don dared Charlie to argue the point.

"Why can't you do that without all the media attention?" Charlie sat down, exhausted from watching his brother pace. He might claim he knew what he was doing but Don was being reckless and secretly Charlie didn't want any part of it.

"Look, not that I will tell them out there…but we're close Charlie. We know their supply routes and we know the members. All I need from my source is a time and a place and the Guerrero Cartel goes down. They are the biggest distributers of the west coast and they have run amuck in my city long enough!"

"Your city?" Charlie frowned concerned.

"Well," Don smiled sheepishly, "After the bust I have planned…yeah. Imagine it Chuck! The biggest cartel taking a slapping from the FBI! The AD's position will be mine and Nick can suck it."

Returning his brother's grin, Charlie replied, "Suck it? Can I quote you on that?"

"Look…I know you have your doubts," Don told Charlie, serious all of a sudden, "But the Guerrero Cartel has evaded our investigations too many times. Rafael Estefan laughs in our faces, when he's not threatening us...that is."

"Is that what this is really about? Revenge?" Charlie asked Don, his concern clear on his face.

"He's already made one attempt on my life already…" Don looked away, the memory shadowing his handsome features.

"No you think he has…there's a difference," Charlie groaned his impatience. Don was certainly the irrational to his rational.

"I know it was him, he all but came out with it when he gave me this," Don rested his hand gently on a tightly wrapped bandage on his upper arm. In a massive shootout, between cartel and FBI, Don had received a grazed bullet wound. Estefan had sent mocking flowers to the office the next day. Don hadn't seen the shooter, and there was no evidence linking Estefan to the crime but Don knew it was him. Standing there, reading the card that had come in the flowers posted to his office shaped like a wreath, Don had known that it was up to him to stop the cartel. Put them all out of business…permanently if he had to.

"You're scared!" Charlie cracked through Don's distracted thoughts, his own distress obvious in his exasperated voice.

"No," Don denied it, "I'm not scared Charlie…I'm pissed! This," He yelled, lifting his arm so Charlie could see it clearly, "this was a warning. He got too close…the whole situation…it's escalating and I plan on stopping it before anyone else gets hurt!"

"Like Angie Watts?" Charlie asked, referring to the innocent fatality that had occurred during the massive shootout.

"She was just a child," Don whispered his fury. She had been a freshman in college, studying to become a doctor… "So much talent," He lamented, "…So much waste."

"It's not your fault," Charlie placed a reassuring hand on his brother's self-sacrificing shoulder.

"It was my stray bullet Charlie!" Don shrugged his brother off, "I had a straight path to Estefan and I didn't get him…"

"You can't prove it was you, bullets were flying everywhere that day," Charlie breathed his regret. There was no stopping Don once he'd started on a guilt trip.

Ignoring his brother, Don immersed himself in the speech. It was true they couldn't prove that it was his bullet but…Don knew. That was enough for him.

"I'd better get out there," Don smiled a forced smile as Colby beckoned to him from the other side of the pavilion.

"I just have to find Amita and Dylan first and then we'll see you on stage," Charlie said with false optimism as he followed Don outside. A massive crowd had gathered to hear what Don had to say, and they appeared to be getting restless. The recent cartel warfare had everyone on edge, including Charlie.

"Amita and Dylan are here?" Don looked around startled. If Charlie wasn't mistaken he thought he could see horror and anger in his brothers piercing brown eyes.

"I told you, we're here to support you," Charlie shook his head in disbelief.

"No! Get your family and go home Charlie," Don held out a warning finger. "You were right, this broadcast is going to stir up trouble…its trouble I need for my bust, but you…I want you home and safe."

"Don, don't be silly. We're here and we are going to stand by you in this," Charlie placed his hands in his pockets so Don couldn't see his clenched fists. He hated it when Don went all macho big brother on him.

"_GO__HOME__CHARLIE_!" Don shouted above the roaring crowd, dismissing Charlie's protests before they really had chance to form.

Turning his back on his brother, Don walked to the front of the crowd and up the stairs and onto the stage. He'd never been one for making big speeches but this one was necessary to his bust. Putting any lingering doubts behind him, Don smiled to the semi-hostile crowd and began his speech.

Ignoring Don's warning, Charlie searched for his wife and son in the crowd. Seeing her he made his way over, took his beautiful baby boy, whom had been a wonderful surprise upon their return from Cambridge, in his arms and headed for a seat at the back of the cordoned off area. What Don didn't know couldn't hurt him.

*Later That Night*

Entering the small diner, the overpowering smell of grease and fat assaulted Don's nostrils. Breathing in deeply through his mouth, Don waited in the dark corner booth for his source to arrive. The diner was badly lit with industrial kitchen lights that cast long shadows over its brave customers. Not that people came here for the food. In the background a rusty jukebox scrawled heavy fifty's hits in its pathetic attempts at being a themed diner. It was basically the perfect meeting spot for this little covert meet.

"You shouldn't have done that," Tony Hernandez told Don as he shuffled into the small booth, their knees bumping under the table.

"They needed an incentive to move the dope, I gave them one," Don replied unapologetically to his companion. If anyone was to spy them now, all they would see was two homeless men who had gathered enough coin to sit a while in the smothering heat of the worst but cheapest diner in downtown LA.

"They also have great reason to suspect that they have a traitor in their midst. Fortunately for me they are looking at more recent entrants to the cartel," Tony looked about him suspiciously. The juke box would hide their conversation but Don stuck out like a sore thumb, however dressed down he played it.

"Tone, listen to me, you are a trusted member of the cartel. Besides your good at deflecting heat, you've been trained well. Aren't you happy that the case will almost be over?" Don whispered, leaning forward.

"I've been undercover for five years now Don. I'm a patient man…I can wait for the timing to play out naturally. I don't need you forcing my hand and getting me killed!" Tony spoke in hushed and unforgiving tones.

"Relax," Don spoke with quiet confidence, "No one's going to die."

"Easy for you to say, you aren't sleeping with the devil," Tony's eyes flashed with annoyance.

"True, but this time Tony I'm right," Don sighed his waning patience.

"Like you were last time?" Tony's words jabbed at Don's heart.

"I've told you before…I'm sorry about Isabel but that wasn't my fault," Don's brow scrunched with disproval, they were getting well off topic for their little meet. "Have you any news from the cartel?" Don asked, but feared that Tony was too angry to answer.

"Yes," He said after a moment's hesitation. "But first…how is she?"

The hardest part for any undercover agent was to sever all connections with their real life. To make friends and know that every day they're lying to them. Tony was well disciplined. His father, also a cop, died at the hands of the cartel…it was his motivation for finishing the case, but Isabel his ex-fiancé was the key that could screw up the five year investigation.

Every time he and Don met, he desperately bartered information for reports on her health. In a car crash Isabel had suffered a large blow to the brain, her short term memory in particular. Unable to remember a single day after the accident, Isabel had lived the last five years repeating the same day. The pressure and heartbreak of it all had been too much. He'd done his best, but one morning over breakfast as he filled his wife in on her life since the accident, his broken heart had given up. He may have left her, but that didn't mean he didn't love her. Besides, it was because of his anger and need that made Officer Hernandez the perfect candidate to bring down the cartel.

"She asks after you…I tell her you're visiting your parents…that she'll see you tomorrow," Don looked away ashamed. Meeting with Isabel was defiantly something he hated doing. Purely because he had known her before the accident and he knew the brilliance and beauty of her mind. She painted the most fabulous paintings that spoke of loneliness and heartbreak, not that she ever fully appreciated why that was or where the inspiration came from.

"Good," Tony said quietly, pretending hard that his heart wasn't breaking all over again. Though the doctors had said that there was a chance for recovery, Isabel had never shown any sign of improvement. "They are packing the drugs up on Friday. They're waiting for their ship to come in so that they can move the drugs further up the coast until this investigation clams down. Right now there's no profit in LA. You've got everyone running scared about the ramifications of possession and intent to supply charges."

"Good," Don parroted. "I'll inform the team and set up the bust. Will Estefan be there? Because he's the fish I want. Without him the cartel will be running scared."

"He's said he'll be there," Tony smiled wickedly, his teeth bared in revenge.

"Good. Leave what you know with me and I'll be there to arrest you all on Friday. You think you can avoid being caught out till then?" Don asked, because it was essential that he didn't endanger Tony's life. "If there's any chance your cover is blown…"

"I'm fine," He grimaced in reply. "Don't worry, I won't screw this up," Tony promised. Whether that promise was to Don or himself, Don couldn't tell.

"You better get going then," Don smiled as he griped his friend's hand. "We're almost there," Don laughed his disbelief.

"Can't wait old friend," Hernandez replied, before slipping out the back as quietly and unnoticed as he'd arrived.

Finishing his terrible coffee, Don waited for half an hour to pass before slipping Tony's napkin into his pocket and leaving out of the front. He was parked a few blocks away, so pulling his cap lower over his face Don made his way through the darkness, a small satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

*Friday*

"Colby," Don smiled as his oldest friend entered his small, packed office. There were towers of paperwork everywhere. It was Don's version of filing, something he had taken from Nick. Personally Colby couldn't see it but if it helped Don who was he to stop him.

"The team's fully briefed," Colby sighed his tiredness as he collapsed upon Don's overstuffed couch. He'd been going over the tactical arrangements with the FBI's SWAT leader Tim King all night. If the cartel had any little sneak holes they were prepared…

"You look worried," Don frowned to cover his sudden doubt. According to Tony earlier in the week and through messages since, Don knew that his little broadcast had worked perfectly to get the cartel questioning itself and preparing a tactical retreat. Whilst he hadn't been allowed to reveal details in the on-going investigation, Don had hinted at enough to get the cartel looking internally for a leak. The sudden mistrust amongst the highest ranking members of the cartel had caused Rafael to come out of hiding to personally organise the retraction of business in LA, which was all good, but it didn't make the task before them any less daunting.

"It's just…if this doesn't pan out the way you want your taking a massive risk personally. Estefan will take revenge and I'm worried that your little broadcast made you the target," Colby replied frankly. Don could always trust Colby to speak his mind and be one hundred present honest with him, not that he always was willing to listen, especially at times like this.

"We're at the eleventh hour Col, there is no going back. If we don't catch the bust mid-way through…Estefan will be gone and untouchable. We have one chance Col…but we've had worse odds than that before," Don smiled to hide his own sinking concern. No one but Don knew Tony's identity; he could only hope that he'd get himself out of there before any of the real shooting began.

"And your source?" Colby asked reading his mind as he always did.

"…He knows what he's doing," Don replied more confidently than he felt.

"Ok," Colby nodded his faith in his friend and boss, causing Don's stomach to turn uneasily. "I'll help with the final preparations then," Colby sat up, twisting his ring with unconcealed worry.

"Liz will be fine," Don smiled his reassurances, "I'll be there with you and we all have our own SWAT cover. Just let me finish this report and I'll be down to give the morale boosting speech."

"More speeches?" Colby laughed as he pulled a grimacing smile.

"For that, I'm going to make it a long one," Don laughed his own tension away. There was no understanding cop humour but it helped them to relax before a bust. If they laughed, then maybe they could forget that some Mexican drug dealer wants them dead over a few grams of dope.

"See you down there," Colby mock saluted as he left the room.

Putting his pen down, Don picked up his desk phone and called Charlie, he should be on his lunch break and Don needed to speak with him urgently. It wasn't that he was suddenly doubting his own police work, but something Colby had said sat uneasily in his mind. _"__It__'__s__just__…__if__this__doesn__'__t__pan__out__the__way__you__want__your__taking__a__massive__risk__personally.__Estefan__will__take__revenge__and__I__'__m__worried__that__your__little__broadcast__made__you__the__target.__" _It was the risk that Don was willing to take, but to be sure Don needed to convince Charlie to get out of town for a couple days till the dust had settled and the fall out had blown over.

"Charles Eppes," Charlie answered on the fifth ring.

"Chuck," Don replied fondly, using the nickname that had annoyed his little brother for years.

"Donald," Charlie replied sternly with displeasure, using Don's full name in revenge.

"Look," Don smiled down the line, "I know that you're really busy with finals at the moment, but I need you to grab Dylan and Amita and get out of town for a few days. The bust is set and in place, but there will be fall out and I don't want you around to get caught in the cross fire."

"Don, I can't leave," Charlie sighed his irritation. Don made all these reckless decisions and it was usually Charlie's life that got disrupted.

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't worried ok," Don ran his hand through his rough curls with frustration.

"Don?" Charlie asked startled. This was about as close as Don ever got to an omission that he might have acted hastily.

"I know it's inconvenient…but I couldn't live with anything happening to you guys. You were right to get out of the business when you had Dylan… You were protecting your family then, I'm only asking you to protect them again now," Don pleaded, his voice catching in his throat, making it sore.

"Ok," Charlie hissed his reluctance through gritted teeth. "I'll get everyone together and leave tonight. Be at mine to say goodbye at seven."

"Thanks Charlie," Don smiled once more.

"Just be careful ok?" Charlie smiled back; he knew his brother was only acting out of love and it gave him a warm glow to know that his and his brother's friendship was still as strong as ever, even though he had quit the FBI.

"I will," Don said before hanging up. With that business settled, he closed the file in front of him and made his way downstairs to get himself ready for the bust of his career.

*Meanwhile, Elsewhere*

"You bastard!" Elias Estefan shouted as he came into the room, his gun raised and murder in his eyes.

"Dude!" Tony Hernandez shouted back, raising both hands in the air as he dropped what he was doing. "What gives?"

"What gives? _What__gives?__"_ Elias repeated angrily as he cocked the gun and shoved it hard against Tony's forehead. "I'll tell you _snitch_ or should I say _pig?_"

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked as the first stirring of alarm crawled its way down his spine.

"I'm talking about the police being outside! You were the only one who knew the location of the warehouse!" Elias shouted as his other hand found its way to Tony's throat and began to squeeze. "Rafael said it was you but I told him that he was delusional. That my best mate wouldn't betray us!"

"I didn't!" Tony choked but it was pointless to lie, Elias was never going to believe him. "Ok…OK!"

Stepping back, Elias gave Tony some room to breathe. His gun, however, never wavered. "Which is it? Pig?" He spat his disgust, "Or snitch? 'Cause honestly I dunno which is worse!"

"Pig," Tony looked away, unable to meet his friend's eyes.

"_You__bastard!__"_ Elias growled again, unsure what to do. Rafael would have told him to kill the traitor, but Elias wasn't his brother. Before him stood his best friend. The man he shot pool with on Mondays and shook down businesses with on Wednesdays and now he found out what? That it had all been a lie and he was just supposed to accept that?

Beneath them, the pair heard the SWAT team's flash grenades as they breached the warehouse's ground floor. They had about ten minutes before they reached the office. There was no escape, now was just a question of choosing between drug or murder charges.

"Look, I get it…but you must know that shooting me…it won't make a difference," Tony stood up and walked around the metal desk, on which sat one hundred grand in cash. You're going to jail, but it doesn't have to_be_ _this__way_."

"You know my brother will hunt you down and kill you right?" Elias said matter of fact and yet still uncertain.

"CLEAR!" They heard at the base of the staircase as the FBI teams worked their way through the rooms below.

"I know," Tony smiled sadly, "So do it and prove yourself to your brother…or don't and I'll take my chances…either way I'm a dead man."

"You know I liked you," Elias told the stranger before him. Was it just him or was Tony even standing different…like a cop…_how__had__he__missed__that?_

"Estefan, drop the weapon," Came Don's reassuring baritone from the corridor, just out of Tony's view.

Instead, Elias's grip tightened, his resolve renewed. "No!" He shouted, his eye's pleading with his friend for forgiveness. "Let me out of here or Officer Hernandez, if that is his real name, dies."

"I can't let you do that Elias," Don replied, levelling his gun and pulling Elias's attention away just long enough to let Tony reach for and draw his own weapon.

"Drop it," Tony told Elias, this time his eyes pleading for forgiveness and finding none. Dropping the weapon, Elias crouched to the ground, hands interlocked behind his head as his former roommate and comrade slapped cuffs on him. "I'm sorry buddy," Tony whispered so that Don couldn't hear him. Five years ago Tony hadn't realised this would be so hard. He was just gutted that it was Elias who had come today. He'd tried to warn him off but it hadn't worked…

"It'll go away," Don said once they were alone, Elias had been carted away by some SWAT officer.

"What will?" Tony replied as he hid his gun in the back of his pants.

"That feeling of betrayal," Don smiled whimsically at his colleague and unlikely friend.

"I didn't realise it'd be so hard," Tony whispered as he realised that that was it…that was the big score that he'd been working his butt off for five long years for. Only it hadn't felt quite so long because of the man that they had just arrested.

"Well you live a lie long enough…" Don stated, giving Tony a slap on the shoulder as he passed on his way out, trying desperately to hide his own frustration and disappointment the Rafael hadn't showed.

"Yes…" Tony sighed mournfully. It wasn't so much that he'd miss it all; he was just lost for where to go next. Isabel had no memories and he had no family. A Drug lord wanted him dead…it was definitely time to get the hell out of dodge. Jogging to catch up with Don, Tony started to discuss transfer options, none of which came as a surprise to Don.

*Later that Night*

"Where the hell is he?" Don shouted as he pulled back the drapes to check outside for signs of Charlie. "He was supposed to be here hours ago!"

"Calm down Don, he'll be home as soon as he's finished at work," Alan berated his fidgety son. "Why is it so important he leaves anyway? I thought that you arrested Estefan and his high ranking gang members'?"

"No we got his brother…the cartel may be on the ropes but Rafael is still out there…" Don shut the drapes and turned to look at his father who was regarding him suspiciously.

"I know that look Don, what aren't you saying?" Holding his hands on his hips, Alan looked like an impressive figure and for a moment Don felt like he was ten years old again with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"I got a phone call two hours ago…Elias Estefan is dead," Don looked away unable to meet his dad's sudden dawning of understanding.

"So you riled up a dangerous cartel and then got the leader's brother killed?" Alan asked, just to make sure he had it right.

"Yes…I fucked up dad. A rival gang struck on route to the prison. We couldn't save him…" Don started to pace the room just for something to do.

"I'll try Charlie again on his mobile," Alan sighed as he went over to the house phone and started dialling but to no avail.

Slowly, a whole hour passed before the sound of jangling keys and muted voices could be heard on the other side of the door. Racing to the door, Don yanked it open before Charlie managed to fully turn the keys in the lock. "Don!" He shouted startled as he looked at his brother's dishevelled suit and messy, finger raked hair.

"Why didn't you pick up your phone?" Don shouted like an angry parent that had just caught their child trying to sneak back into the house.

"It's dead," Charlie replied, still bewildered with an unimpressed Amita and Dylan behind him. "I tried to call on a payphone but the line was busy."

"You need to leave," Don cut his brother off as he pulled him close for a bear hug. "The problem with the cartel…I made it worse Chuck," Don admitted reluctantly over his brother's shoulder as he watched his nephew sleep on his mother's shoulder, unaware of the turmoil around him.

"Worse how?" Charlie asked a hint of alarm in his voice. He could tell his brother was really worried and that scared him. Don was usually his rock, his guiding star…to see him cast so low in confidence shook him to his core.

"Well…I got the cartel leader's brother killed…" Don admitted reluctantly as he stepped back to let his brother and sister-in-law in through the door.

"Oh," Charlie said mindlessly as the consequences dawned on him. He felt anger stirring in his belly. This was why he'd left the FBI; he had Dylan to think about now. "We don't have a car," He said stupidly, "It broke down…it's why we're so late."

"Take mine," Don held out the keys, "I'll ride my bike for a couple of weeks."

"We'll get packing," Amita told Don, her tone clipped, before offloading her son on Alan.

"Thanks," Don smiled weakly, but it wasn't returned.

Upstairs, husband and wife argued in hushed tones as they hurriedly packed what meagre belongings would fit into a couple of old battered suitcases. Don couldn't hear the specifics, but when they returned downstairs once more, it was with sour and chilled expressions. "Let me help you take them to the car," Don offered and took the case off Amita before she could argue.

Things happened pretty quickly after that. Amita wrestled the keys off her husband, who was tired from lack of sleep and Dylan had to be taken back inside to have his nappy changed. Meanwhile Charlie and Amita waited inside the car, talking to Don, through gritted teeth as far as Amita was concerned.

"Here is a burner cell…I don't want to take any chances, Don told Charlie through the passenger side window.

"Thanks," Charlie told his brother as he took the phone from his tense, white grasp. "Look…you did your best," Charlie tried to comfort his brother. "We'll be back before you know it and then we can have that beer you owe me."

"Sure," Don nodded his consent and although it took a lot of effort, he also did his best to smile.

"We'd better hurry," Amita cut in tartly, "We're losing light."

"I'll go see what is keeping dad," Don nodded, trying hard not to take it personally.

"I'll get the engine warmed up," She heaved a sigh as she placed the key in the ignition.

With a flash and a bang, Don was thrown to his knees in shock as heat burned its way up his back. A second Crash and bang as Alan and Dylan came rushing from the house. Dylan's ear piercing screams were blocked by the ringing in Don's ears from the explosion. Time slowed as the fire turned the sky crimson and the lawn to a burning hell. Everywhere lay scattered remains of Amita and the car.

Black and blood streaked down his face as Don stood; too shocked to understand why Alan wrestled Dylan to his chest, or to hear his own bone shattering moan of despair. The car was a towering inferno, a blackened wreck that scorched the earth beneath all of their feet.

With a world of effort and time, Don made his way over to the car, heat pouring over him as sweat streaked stains merged with the soot and blood on his face. Amita was nothing but a blacked carcass, consumed by flames. Somehow, a small rational part of his brain manage to determine that the bomb must have to been set there, but any logic failed him as coming around the side, Don noticed Charlie, who had been thrown clear in the explosion.

"CHARLIE!" He shouted, or at least he thought it was him, the scream began and died in his throat but it wasn't his voice.

The body on the ground only half looked like his brother; however, as third degree burns blackened their way across the left-hand side of his body. Dropping back on to torn knees Don scrambled at his brothers burnt neck to check for a pulse and was rewarded with a weak but steady beat. Hope restored, even for a second, Don pulled out his mobile and called every emergency service he could think of. An ambulance for Charlie, a fire engine for Amita and the police…for Dylan.

Dylan, just the thought of him had Don turning. Alan was still wrestling the child who was dangerously close to pitching himself at the burning car in a childish attempt to get to his mother. "GET HIM BACK IN SIDE!" Don shouted angrily at his shocked father, who only briefly registered Don's command and followed it half-heartedly.

Turning back to Charlie, Don went against every instinct and put his brother in the recovery position. His hands touching burnt and bloody flesh came away red, but Don didn't notice, instead he wiped his hands on his trousers and waited for the ambulance to come. When they did, Don refused to travel with them. Instead he let his father and Dylan go. Someone said something about being checked over, but Don waved them all away.

Going inside he took his father's keys from the sideboard and shoved his Glock revolver into the back of his pants, only partially covered but his tattered shirt. He had cuts and grazes everywhere, probably even glass sticking out, but none of that mattered. Dialling Tony, Don waited for him to pick up before briefing him on what had just happened. "Do you know where he might be?" Don asked above Tony's mindless sympathy.

"No, I'm sorry Don, I would have told you if I did," Tony scrunched his face up as he tried to re-evaluate the last five years.

"COME ON!" Don shouted down the line, "There must be _somewhere_ we haven't looked!"

"The marina!" Tony laughed at his stupidity. "Elias has a boat there but he told me it was really Rafael's. Look Don, wait for me and don't do anything stu-"

Hanging up, Don pocketed his cell phone and ignored its incessant vibrations. Once outside, Don left everyone to the burning wreck that was his car and sister-in-law and headed to the marina, revenge in his heart and murder in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

*Port of Los Angeles,

Same Night*

The ocean looked calm tonight. The different marinas lit up the inky black water like a Christmas tree and that was the only thing that Don could think about, that the ocean looked calm tonight-on a night when all humanity seemed lost to him. His world was over. Amita was dead, Charlie was dying-there was no way he'd recover-and Don? Don was sitting in his car, in a marina car park with a ringing in his ears and a gun in his lap. Picking the gun up, Don pulled out the magazine and inspected it. There was enough heat there to send Estefan to hell fifteen times, and Don intended to do just that…

…because aftereverything that had happened today, all Don could think about was how at the end of the San Pedro Marina was Estefan and he needed to pay. Reloading the magazine, Don listened out for the final click as the magazine held. Any guilt or physical pain could wait. For now Don just let it all fall away. He stilled his racing heart, boiled his frozen blood and let his mind rage. _He__needs__to__pay,__he__needs__to__pay,_ was all that Don could think and the thought consumed him to the point where he cocked his Glock and got out of the car. _He__needs__to__pay!_ The ocean swished with him as the waves lapped at the pontoon, following his steady progress. _He__needs__to__pay,_ the wind whistled in the sails around him as it blew him further down the pier.

The 'La Lancha' was a small yacht at the end of the pier, the most southerly boat in the whole of the harbour and its windows seemed to illuminate Don's way. If he looked very closely, he could see a silhouetted form on the rear of the deck. There were no body guards…just Estefan. _How__silly,_ Don thought childishly as he raised his gun and quickened his pace. There was music somewhere, a chilling violin solo that lowered the already sombre tone. _He__needs__to__pay,_ it seemed to screech in the distance and Don agreed whole heartedly.

Keeping to the shadows, Don crawled his way onto the deck and with his narrow minded precision, located the silhouette. Estefan didn't even hear him approach, but then he thought he was _safe._ Don would soon teach him that there was no such thing. That life was cruel and perverted. Oh yes, he was going to teach Estefan what it truly meant to be afraid. To glimpse the end and know that there's no coming back. Forget about being on the edge, Don laughed at himself. Don had well and truly fallen off the cliff and was swimming in the ocean and soon, yes soon, Rafael was going to know it too.

"You!" Estefan stated shocked as Don roughly pulled him round to face him, his appletini and glass dropping into the ocean with a little plop.

"Yes," Don smiled like a wolf to his trapped prey. "Expecting someone else?" Don laughed as he back handed Estefan across the forehead with the butt of his gun. "Too bad," Don smacked Rafael's unconscious cheek, before stripping him of his weapons and dragging him into the small cabin beneath.

*Later, at the Hospital*

"Can I see him?" Colby asked the doctor desperately, his heart pumping faster and his breath hitching in his chest, he'd just run twelve blocks to the hospital. He felt sick. When he'd received Robin's shrieking voicemail it was like there was nothing else, just him and his need to be by Charlie's side. Don was AWOL and no one seemed to know what to do next. "_Please!__" _He pleaded urgently.

"Look…Mr Granger," The doctor sighed tiredly, it had taken a few hours but Charlie had finally stabilized, "It's not a pretty site…he's…well…it's just that…"

"I know," Colby looked down unable to meet the doctor's sympathetic gaze. "I went to the house," Colby conceded, "I've seen the remains of his wife…"

"If you're sure then," The doctor placed a hand on Colby's arm, his face suggesting that Colby was a braver man than he, "Then I think he could do with the company…he's scared and a bit out of it. I don't think he knows much about what happened…."

"Nor should he for the time being," Colby nodded his understanding and let the doctor lead the way. Reaching Charlie's room, Colby's breath caught in his throat as he swallowed his tongue in shock. In all his years in Afghanistan and in LA on arson cases, Colby had never seen anything like it.

The whole left side of Charlie's face was so burnt that Colby thought he could actually see his cheek and jaw bones popping out amongst the tendons that pulled at the corner of his mouth, revealing teeth. His left eye looked unnaturally wide against the black and red flesh that was now hollowed and shrunken around it. Colby couldn't help but compare it to the scene in Batman: The Dark Night, when Harvey Dent reveals the crusty and misshapen half of his face.

Forcing a smile, Colby came over to Charlie's side and grabbed his good hand. He longed to stamp his foot and curse the sun blue but the normal half of Charlie's face looked so peaceful and so at odds with the frozen horror to its left, that Colby didn't have the heart to disturb him. So instead, Colby stifled the growing moan of despair in his throat as Don continued to stay absent, which was ridiculously unlike Don that Colby knew deep in his heart that nothing would ever be the same again.

He felt like the world had somehow fallen on its head. Amita was dead, Charlie was a scarred and disfigured mess…surely the world was coming to an end because the breaking in his heart couldn't feel any worse than if his own wife and child had died instead.

"Col?" Charlie coughed through gritted teeth.

"Don't speak," Colby pressed his fingers to Charlie's chapped lips. "I'll get some water," Which was easier said than done. With half his mouth missing, the water seemed to fall everywhere and dribbled down his no longer perfect chin.

"Colby," Charlie croaked again in his unfamiliar voice.

"Yes Charlie?" Colby tried to smooth the dampened curls on the right-hand side of his head.

"Where's Don?" Charlie asked as a disgusted Colby looked away, unable to hold eye contact as Charlie's left eye swivelled in its socket to sweep the room with distressed emphasis.

"He's with Dylan," Colby lied, knowing full well that Alan and Dylan were in the family waiting room.

"Liar," Charlie choked back a bitter laugh.

"Ok…he's gone AWOL," Colby admitted reluctantly and was distressed to see Charlie nod his understanding.

"Colby…look after him…and look after Dylan and Amita for me," He whispered through spittle covered lips. "Be the uncle that Don can't…" He stopped mid-sentence as his body began to convulse.

"What's happening?" Colby shouted stricken. "NURSE…? DOC…? ANYBODY?"

"Colby," Charlie lifted his burnt and marred hand. Taking it in his, Colby leaned in close enough that Charlie's spitted words tickled his ears, "_Promise__me!__"_ He shouted strained to the point that sweat began to pour down his smooth and crimson forehead.

"OK…! OK!" Colby shouted back, "_I_ _PROMISE_!"

Sighing and smiling at the same time, Charlie closed his eyes in solemn relief as he recited his favourite psalm, "The lord is my Shepard, I lack nothing, he makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul."

Cupping Charlie's shacking cheeks in his warm hands, Colby joined in, "He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for you…you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Weeping openly, Colby shook his head and looked skywards for answers as he silently prayed for his friend and surrogate brother.

He didn't complain, however, when it seemed that his prayers were answered and a doctor strong armed him out of the way. Charlie nevertheless, seemed to be oblivious to the rush of hurried voices and general calamity around him.

"You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies," He puffed, his breaths falling short as his heart slowed and his bp dropped. "You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the lord forever." He whispered fiercely, the pain reaching boiling point and the black easing in on his scattered consciousness.

Several minutes passed as Charlie stared at the ceiling with wide-eyed fever, before the convulsions that had started so suddenly, disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Stood outside, paralysed at the window, Colby watched Charlie's whole body go limp, twitch twice, then lay still, any signs of life long, long gone. The team of doctor's tried valiantly to bring Charlie back but there was not reviving him and secretly a part of Colby had known that it was better this way…

At ten fifteen central, Charles Edward Eppes died from third degree burns and internal bleeding.

*San Pedro Marina*

It had taken Tony longer than he would have liked but he'd finally reached the small marina. He searched the car park desperately, but Don was nowhere to be seen and Tony didn't know what type of car Don would have driven. The optimist in him wanted to believe that Don had given up and driven to the hospital instead but the realist told him to go to the boat. So, pulling his gun from its holster, Tony marched down the pier till he came across the 'La Lancha' and climbed aboard. Don and Estefan were in the hold.

"Don," He breathed out relief and horror, "What are you doing?"

"He needs to pay," Don whispered gruffly, his gun barrel stuck in Estefan's mouth.

"And he will…just not like this," Tony's voice was slightly pleading as he took in the full scene around him. Rafael was duct taped to a plush cushioned chair, his left arm hung at a wrong angle and was most likely broken. There was a deep red gash along his forehead as well, roughly the size and shape of the end of Don's gun. "_Please__Don_," Tony shook Don's shoulder violently, "_STOP__THIS!__"_

"I can't…" Don's hands shook, his finger had coiled itself around the trigger and squeezed till it felt resistance. "He _killed_ Charlie!"

"I know…everyone does. So he'll serve time…just don't do it Don…for Charlie, don't murder this SOB!" Tony walked around the chair so he was looking Don in the eye, Estefan between them.

"Don't," Don cried, tears streaming down his cheeks as Tony put his gun down and reached for his pocket knife and started to untie Estefan. "He killed Charlie." Don repeated, his gun un-lodging itself from Rafael's mouth to aim at his heart.

"It's only fair," Estefan finally croaked, his teeth gritted in pain. "Truth is that bomb was meant for you…but fate…yes how ironic. I couldn't have done it better myself. _A__brother__for__a__brother_." Rafael grinned, a couple of teeth were missing and he had the beginning of a cut lip from the gun.

"Shut up," Tony smacked Estefan across the head, you're under arrest for the murder of Charlie and Amita Eppes-"

"Ooo, the bitch too!" Estefan gloated gleefully, until he saw the resolve harden in Don's eyes. There were no tears now. Just Don and his burning hatred of the man in front of him and for himself. This was all _his_ fault after all. If he hadn't railed up the cartel or suggested Charlie leave town…yes this was his fault…but he was going to put it right!

"Don!" Tony shouted, trying to break through, "Don't listen to him!"

"You know I really wanted you dead…but this," Estefan nodded at the room around him. "_This__is__better,__"_ He whispered, blood flying on his spit.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the state," Don finished Estefan's Miranda rights.

"Boring!" He laughed as Tony finished undoing the duct tape and reached for the abandoned gun. Grabbing it, he kicked Tony off balance and sent the knife flying.

"Drop it!" Don warned Estefan coldly as Estefan pointed the gun at Tony.

"You drop it or I kill Tony here, my brother's best friend. _You__sent__him__to__his__death!_" Rafael shouted as he cocked the gun and pointed it at Tony's leg and let off a round. Howling in pain, Tony laughed causing Estefan to shoot the other leg.

"Idiot," Tony smirked.

"Why," Estefan asked with only mild interest.

"Because," Don grinned wolfishly, "now, I'm defending a police officer!" Leveling the gun at Charlie's murderer, Don let of three shots. "That's for Amita!" Don shot Estefan in the belly. "That's for Charlie," He shot him in the shoulder. "And that…that's for Dylan!" Don finally Shot Rafael in the heart. The bastard collapsed in a bloody heap on the ground.

Pulling his mobile out, Don called it in and phoned for an ambulance. Numb, thinking he should feel better about it…Don just felt tired. He applied pressure to Tony's wounds but ultimately he was just going through the motions. In truth Don didn't think he could ever feel normal or better again.

"I'm sorry," Don told Tony as they carted him away to the ambulance.

"Don't be," Tony smiled. "They're both avenged now, my father…your brother…. It'll get easier Don. I promise you that. One day, however long you need… You'll find closure. You'll be able to move past this night!"

"I doubt it," Don mumbled to Tony's retreating back as he let a paramedic steer him away as well. He needed a check over and then…then he needed a beer.

*One Month Later*

"How is he?" Alan asked Robin as he sat and watched his grandson twist about on the couch, his mind trapped in fretful slumber. "Be honest Robin…how is my son?"

"He blames himself mostly," Robin sighed tiredly. It was hard to believe sometimes that only a month had passed since…well since the incident.

"And…Dylan?" Alan asked, gesturing to the troubled lad.

"Mostly he cries until Don comes home and then he just sits in his playpen dazed and unreachable. He'll only sleep when Don cradles him to his chest but…" Robin paused, pulling her shawl tightly around her slumping shoulders.

"But Don's incapable of being there for himself right now let alone Dylan," Alan finished coldly. It wasn't that he blamed Don; he was far past blaming his reckless son, after all had he not been shepherding Charlie to safety when it happened? No Alan was too bus blaming God to blame his son.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't think…" Robin broke the sudden silence that had shrouded her small condo's living room.

"If you didn't think his presence here was making Don worse…you said as much on the phone last night. Have you considered; however, that it will only create a distance between them that I fear Don will not be able to overcome?" Looking closely, Robin could see the toll that her brother-in-laws death had caused Alan. In a month he'd thinned dramatically, his eyes sunken and swollen. He looked like he'd aged ten years and whilst Robin just wanted to cuddle all of their pain away; Alan looked as though the slightest touch could and would break him.

"I have…but I have to believe that Don's coming back to us…because if I don't…if I imagine for a second that he's gone forever… That he'll stay cold and unforgiving…then I don't think I could cope…" Angry at herself for showing weakness, Robin swiped her sudden tears away with the back of her hand and turned away from Alan's sympathetic frown. She'd rather die than let Alan know that Don had…well…she'd promised herself long ago that she'd never be one of _those__wives_. Whilst Don had never physically struck her, lately his words have been less than flattering.

She realized that he was grieving…she also realized that Don was in denial and needed a punching bag, she just didn't know how long she could stand under the crushing blows of his drunken rants. In the space of a month Don had smashed plates, shattered windows and punched holes in walls…all the while telling her to 'fuck off and leave him alone'. She recognized now that she had been wrong. She'd thought that by showing him that she was there for him twenty-four-seven he'd weep, throw a tantrum or two and fall gratefully into her loving and comforting embrace.

Instead he had shrugged off her loving embrace, pushed her roughly against the wall and locked himself and a six pack in the study for a week. She'd suffocated him and now knew that what she should have given him was space. So here she was, throwing her marriage at the mercy of her father-in-law, who was not a young man, and begged him to take Dylan away because like it or not Dylan was a major reminder of Don's guilt and suffering.

"I didn't realize how bad things had gotten," Alan said somberly as he held his hand out for her.

Taking it, Robin let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, "I just don't want Dylan growing up thinking that this is who his uncle is…because I fear that if Dylan stays…the resentment will far surpass anything that would come with him staying at yours for the time being. Don's not a cruel man. It's just with Charlie and…and Nick getting the AD job…Don's in a dark place. I'm scared for what he might do…" Robin's voice shook almost hysterically.

"Don't worry…" Alan squeezed her hand again, "I'll do my best with Dylan…you just work on bringing my son back to me," Smiling a small strained smile, Alan stood and scooped his sleeping nephew into his warm embrace. Fighting for a moment, Dylan soon settled back into Alan's loving embrace.

"Goodbye, precious," Robin kissed Dylan's smooth forehead before seeing them both out of the door.

It was late and lonely in her small condo, so instead of bothering to go through the motions, Robin went to bed and waited patiently for her husband to come home. How he could work with everything that going on at home she didn't know, but she supposed it was better than him staying home and getting drunk…anything was better than that. Besides after his month long suspension pending an investigation into Estefan's death, Don was just relieved to have a job full stop. Robin was glad for him too, after all it was all he had left…or so he claimed. She didn't know how, but lying smothered beneath the sheets, Robin vowed to make sure that Don remembered that he still had family in his father, Dylan and her. He would see it one day…she'd make sure of it.

Hours seemed to drift past as she dozed, all the while musing on how to snap Don out of his depression, when Don finally stumbled through their bedroom door. Without saying a word she lay patiently for him to crawl into bed and curl up against her back. It was the only body contact they had these days, not that she blamed him or couldn't see why…it was just that in the cold light of day even the brush of an arm as she passed him, left him shuddering. That was something else she'd slowly work on changing, even if it killed her she was going to find a way to pull her husband back to her. Kicking and screaming if she had to!

The End.

Dear Readers,

Curious how things turned out?

Visit my sequel 'After You're Gone' and follow Don and Dylan's story some more as the two fight to find common ground, which is more difficult than it sounds. Set seventeen years after the series and twelve years after this fic, 'After You're Gone' looks at family, depression, alcoholism and grief. It's not an easy read, but hopefully you'll agree that the payoff is worth it in the end.

Many thanks,

Colby'sGirl19

P.S,

As always, I'd like to thank you all so much for the kind words in your reviews for both fics. I have to admit that they were particularly generous for this one. I'm also glad (and relieved) that you enjoyed the story :)

You've been like my own mini support group whilst writing both of these fics and with some of the difficult themes, that for some reason, I decided to tackle here, your kind words have kept me enthusiastic and hardworking :P

I watch a lot of American TV shows and Numb3rs is one of my absolute favorites. Whilst it was hard to kill the characters that I did, especially how I did, I hope I did the story justice and in a perverse way…entertained you. I'm taking a short break over Christmas to recover but I already have a great idea for a slightly more positive and upbeat story (don't worry :) I'll still include plenty of angst :D) and I promise not to kill any characters this time…well…major ones anyway ;)

Cheers! x


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